


Castle Dracula

by spowell Count Dracula series (SPowell)



Series: Count Dracula [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Bondage, Humiliation, Kink, M/M, Murder, OOC, Torture, Whipping, dark!fic, dub-con, elements of master/slave, enslavement, evil!Merlin, kink torture, mind-control, non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 14:27:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2696324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPowell/pseuds/spowell%20Count%20Dracula%20series
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur Pendragon arrives at Castle Dracula. The Count is not what he'd expected.</p><p>This fic will get very explicit. Please heed all warnings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Castle Dracula

**Author's Note:**

> This series, at first, vaguely follows Bram Stoker's Dracula. It contains disturbing images and high kink, so if that's not for you, turn away. Please mind the warnings as the series progresses. This is not my usual fare, so please do not read this simply because you liked what I've written before. Dark!fic, evil!Merlin.
> 
> Please do not read if you are triggered by any of the tags.

Arthur stared up at the imposing castle. The carriage driver had refused to take him the last two miles, and Arthur was a little winded from walking over the uneven terrain. Overhead, clouds blew across a waning moon and stars littered the sky.

Arthur took a deep breath and approached the gates, which seemed to fall open for him on their own. Had it been daylight, he might have stopped to examine them, but as it was, he hurried forward through the courtyard to the imposing front door.

Two strokes of the gargoyle doorknocker, and the door swung open, startling Arthur. By this time, he felt a bit ragged and jumpy. His long trip had tired him, and the closer he got to Castle Dracula, the odder the people he encountered became. They all seemed to think he was crazy for visiting the Count and tried to talk Arthur into turning around and going back home. They’d whispered and pointed at his hair. One woman had even tried to press upon him a bouquet of garlic, of all things. He’d taken it politely only to chuck the smelly thing out the window a bit farther down the road.

“Welcome,” a voice with a slight accent said, and Arthur stepped inside to find a cloaked figure standing in the shadows. “Arthur Pendragon, I presume? Welcome to Castle Dracula.”

The door closed behind him with a bang, and Arthur jumped. The Count laughed.

“Nights like this can make a man a bit jittery,” he said, stepping into the light of a sconce.

Count Dracula was not at all what Arthur had expected. For some reason, he’d gotten the idea that the count was an old man, but in fact he was quite young—about Arthur’s age—and exceptionally handsome.

“So Gaius sent you to take care of my affairs rather than come himself,” the Count said, smiling. His lips were full and somewhat pretty, and his teeth straight and white. His eyes were a lighter blue than Arthur’s, and his hair dark and slightly wavy. He held out his hand and Arthur shook it.

The Count’s eyes seemed to be taking in Arthur’s appearance, absorbing every few inches of him before moving on. He particularly seemed fascinated by Arthur’s blond hair. Arthur blushed under the scrutiny. He was accustomed to being admired, but this man took it to a whole new level.

“I will carry your trunk upstairs,” the Count finally said, reaching for it.

“That’s all right, I’ll do it—“

“Nonsense, you are my guest.”

Arthur followed the Count up the stone stairs which wound in a spiral that soon had Arthur dizzy.

His room was spacious and if not cozy, comfortable enough. The Count lit a candle—or at least he must have, because one flared to life, although Arthur could have sworn the Count hadn’t set down Arthurs portmanteau in time to do it. He turned back to Arthur, eyes sparkling in the half-light.

“Please rest, and then join me downstairs in the dining room for a bite to eat.”

Arthur nodded, watching him bow and go. After filling the porcelain bowl with water from the pitcher, Arthur unbuttoned his shirt collar and washed his face and neck. He thought perhaps he should take a moment to write to his fiancée, as he’d promised her he would write frequently, and it had been a few days; but the rumble of his stomach sent him downstairs to eat instead.

He found the Count sitting at a huge table, set for only one.

“Won’t you be joining me?” Arthur asked. He was amazed to see that the plates and goblets were made of heavy, pure gold.

“I shall eat later,” the Count replied, eyes moving over Arthur in a way that made Arthur want to squirm.

Arthur tucked into the lavish meal, answering the Count as he inquired about the London property Arthur’s offices had secured for him.

“I’m sure you’ll be very comfortable there,” Arthur said, wiping his mouth with the cloth napkin.

“I’m certain that I will. It is almost dawn—I’m sure you’d like to get to bed. I shall do the same. There are some things I must attend to today, so feel free to explore the castle when you awaken. Some doors remain locked. Please do not try to enter them. I have a fully stocked library, but take care not to fall asleep there.” With a nod of his head and a bow, the Count disappeared through a side door.

Arthur slept well enough, although he did feel a bit nervous with the wolves howling outside his window. He washed and shaved. He was unable to find a mirror and had to use the small one he’d packed. Oddly, there seemed to be no mirrors at all in the castle. Arthur wondered how the Count managed to look so turned out.

Downstairs, Arthur found breakfast waiting for him in the dining room. He wondered where the Count’s cook was, as of yet he’d not seen or heard another soul in the castle. After eating, Arthur roamed the halls. At least half the doors were locked, and that perplexed him, although the Count had already told him about them. What lay behind them?

Finally, Arthur settled in the library and wrote a letter to his fiancée, telling her about the last leg of his trip and that the Castle Dracula was marvelously mysterious. He hoped her father and brother were doing well, and he would see her in two weeks.

Addressing the letter, Arthur left it on the side table to be mailed and began perusing the bookshelves. Never had Arthur seen such a splendid array of books—he could spend hours in there with them. Choosing five, he took them to the chaise and sat down to read.

Before he knew it, his eyes drooped closed.

 


End file.
